


Two worlds collided (We're shining through)

by ImberReader



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, It's a New Year's fic, Just some good old pining that gets resolved, and very besotted Jaime, that's it folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-20 00:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22073065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImberReader/pseuds/ImberReader
Summary: Brienne is one of the hosts at the immensely popular New Year's program and merely wants a five minute break from everything, including her co-host and friend Jaime Lannister who keeps bringing her up without any need.Jaime has other plans, as he is quite determined to get something off his chest before the midnight so they can start the new yearright.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 10
Kudos: 109





	Two worlds collided (We're shining through)

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching a New Year's program last night, as one does, and was reminded how I always think of Stormlands as vaguely Slavic (don't ask me why, just don't). And bam, this idea was born. 
> 
> Never written anything for any holidays, nor written anything on 1st January at all, but always time for a first, right? 
> 
> Not beta-d. We embarrass ourselves publicly like men. You can find me on [tumblr.](https://scoundrels-in-love.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also Happy New Year, everyone! May it be filled with amazing stories, fic and canon, as well as time and energy to create things you wish to create!

Brienne has spent no more than three minutes undetected before she’s found.

It’s a good spot - one of the balconies overlooking the grand room below, filled with countless tables, humming crowd and sense of revelry. Huge fir tree blocks the view partially, giving it a false sense of privacy. She had been surprised (but thankful) to find it empty of couples making out, but she doubts her luck will hold for long before someone stumbles in.

Instead, it is Jaime that walks in, sharp smile and sharper feeling of intent about him.

She sighs and braces herself. Brienne lo- _ cares  _ for him, but the two years she’s known him has taught her this energy can mean nothing good for her already frayed nerves. And what years they’ve been, she thinks fondly and a little disbelieving as Jaime leans against the railing and rakes hand through his golden hair. (He won’t even need a stylist to fix it up afterward, damn it.)

They’ve went from ‘I want to do nothing more than grind you into fine bone dust in front of cameras on your (my) brother’s talk show’ to ‘from all idiots present, you’re both the most annoying and interesting one’ to ‘we’re sort of friends now huh’ to ‘my weekend’s not quite complete if I don’t hear your voice’ to unnervingly undefinable something they are now and countless stages in-between in this time, drifting closer despite everything from their mismatched schedules to his crazy twin sister (who is exaggeratedly mouth syncing to a song about importance of motherhood on stage right now, Myrcella and Tommen dancing a little awkwardly among the crowd of children surrounding her) trying to keep them in their own trajectories.

When he looks at her like he does right now, she wonders if one day soon this won’t end in a collision where her heart reenacts Titanic’s fate. 

“Shouldn’t you be down there with your co-host?” she asks, focusing on anything but him. The blue and gold bauble in fir tree probably has never been admired quite like this. 

“I am not up for another ten, I think. Already expressed my support for Cersei before her number. Besides, they will make-do, if they must.” She sees him shrug on her peripheral vision, almost embodiment of nonchalance if not for the tension she feels in Jaime still.

“I think you gave them whole next year’s worth of trouble, constantly going off even the vague script like that.” Now Brienne  _ does _ face him. She had meant to talk about it after the show, but if he’s here… Well. It’s better to stoke the embers of embarrassment than to quietly stand sinking in emerald colored quick sand of his gaze. 

Jaime’s grin is wide and not least bit apologetic. “It’s not my fault next year’s the year of Sapphire Dragon and you’ve starred in not one or three, but actually  _ five  _ movies involving dragons. And you actually slayed one in the latest.” 

“That doesn’t mean you have to bring me up whenever the color or dragons could even vaguely be mentioned!” She didn’t have to see it to know the camera had haphazardly panned to her every time, second time catching her when she had tried to sneak away from platform to catch a moment to herself. 

“What can I say, I just think next year could be yours, Brienne. And the blue of your eyes does make sapphires look washed out.”

There is such warmth in his expression it’s almost soft and combined with the resolute  _ sincerity _ it sends confused, thrilled heat of blush through her face. Brienne shifts away again, to look at the emptying stage where some decorations are hurriedly changed to prepare for the next performance. Stormlands prides itself in this event and how all of Westeros watches celebrities of every type coming together to create a show for them. She always has to double down that  _ no _ , she will  _ not _ be singing. 

“I do wish you had agreed to do a sword fight reenactment with me. That’d be something new. Maybe next year we can slay the ‘dragon’ together,” Jaime comments as the next song starts. She has to introduce the one after next, so her little getaway is coming to an end. 

“I hope I won’t have to attend next year, Jaime,” Brienne reminds him, but knows that’s not likely to happen, as long as she stars in at least one decent film. 

“I’d rather be back at your place, too,” Jaime agrees, very well knowing she’s thinking of the quiet, warm way they used to greet new year back on Tarth. It doesn’t surprise her as often anymore, the way he  _ knows _ her, but it does always spark a sort of longing and fear all at once. When will he see the part of her that wants an unnameable more and turn away from her?

“But maybe we could do something else.” He sounds even closer now and when Brienne turns her head, startled. The little gap that had between them a minute ago has melted away, much like sensible thoughts are leaving her mind. “Something I’ve wanted for a long time.” His voice is low and rough and though the music should drown it out, it’s the only thing she hears. (Even her own hammering heartbeat has no sound, only maddening presence against her rib cage.)

“We?” His eyes are on her lips, as if he needs to read the pointless word from them. Or maybe he can’t look away -- 

They meet in the middle, tentative for a second or two and then her hands are cradling his face, his arm wrapped around her waist as he pulls her flush against him and for a split second, she thinks if fireworks went off next to them right now, it’d pale in comparison to what is going inside of her. But the truly  _ unforgivably  _ cheesy thought is swept away by the feel of Jaime’s hair trickling through her fingers and the way his hand cups her jaw. 

“We,” he breathes out unevenly against her mouth when they part for air. It sounds like a promise, she just doesn’t know what it entails. And then someone’s shouting  _ Brienne _ near to the entrance of the balcony and she realizes that not only she’s somehow become part of the pairs that’d hide here to make out, but she’s missed her cue. 

“I’ve got to go,” she explains needlessly and extracts herself from his arms. Hopefully the lipstick is as durable as her stylist had sworn it to be, somehow expecting her to actually take part in the midnight kiss tradition for once. (The concept she may almost sends Brienne reeling down the narrow stairs.) 

Rest of the night passes in a blur of doing her job, glaring at Jaime when he keeps complimentary alluding to her absolutely unnecessarily and then sneakily kissing him senseless for his transgressions in moments in between. Except it must not happen that sneakily, because her phone is vibrating off the table, Sansa keeps trying to catch her alone (but doesn’t succeed because she’s busy exploring camera blind spots with Jaime) and Tyrion looks even smugger than usual, which is saying something. 

But somehow, Brienne doesn’t really mind. Not even when Jaime proclaims he doesn’t know about the rest of them, but  _ they _ are starting New Year right and drags her in for a kiss right in the middle of room, before countdown even starts. (Needless to say, it ends only well after the clock strikes twelve and if there are any wolf whistles, they’re washed out by champagne and and far more intoxicating Jaime.)

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, for this fic verse, there's a Big Mystical Animals year cycle like our Chinese zodiac, but instead of 4 elements, they use various gems as the type. This is all a poor excuse to write Sapphire Dragon stuff into the fic.


End file.
